Illuminating the Blade's Shadow
by Nephalos
Summary: Katarina approaches the Blade's Shadow, demanding one last mission; kill the prince of Demacia to throw the country into political turmoil. He sees the option to frame Lux, Jarvan's grudgingly betrothed. What follows is a series of events neither of them anticipated. Collaboration with / tazirarenalise. M for sex, violence, and politics. I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

Hello readers! This story will be a collaboration between myself and a friend. I hope you all enjoy. Keep in mind that this story was written by two different authors; the voice may change between characters as we switch authors.

_**CHAPTER ONE **_

The young woman sighed, retrieving the golden picture frame she had hastily thrown onto the floor. There she was - her tight-lipped smile close to the arm of her fiance that was draped over her shoulder. The situation was ironic in many ways, but the most cruel was that, five years ago, the prospect of marrying Jarvan IV had excited her. After all, he was a prince. Wasn't that the dream of every girl? She chuckled inwardly at such an idea. The answer was obviously no.

It wasn't that she could fault him for not trying. He could be dashingly charming at times, and even at that moment flowers sat in a vase by her bed. But was this what she wanted? Not unlike other women of her caliber she hadn't had a choice, and perhaps that was the true rotten apple in their relationship. Luxanna couldn't deny that she cared for him, but that was a long ways away from love.

Warmth from the sun streamed in from the large window, making her face dazzle in the light. It was well into the afternoon and she was yet to leave her room for breakfast early that morning. Within the last couple years she had become more and more reserved; recently if she wasn't being summoned for some grand event she was most likely off by herself. This new characteristic hadn't gone unnoticed by those closest to her. She wasn't sure if it was disinterest or the realization that they could do nothing to pull her from this subtle bout of depression that kept them from openly inquiring about it, but in the end she guessed it didn't matter. In a couple years she would be forced to leave the fields of the Institute of War so that her marriage to the Prince of Demacia could come to fruition.

It was only on the Rift that she truly felt at ease any more. As her magic dangerously lept into the air it was easy to keep a charismatic smile and light hearted laugh at her lips. In the heated moments of battle all was right in the world - all was _fair._ Whether she succeeded or failed was the result of her own decisions. Victory or defeat was a collection of choices that nestled themselves securely in the center of her palm. The competitive streak that was so familiar to a member of the Crownguard house had made an obvious spectacle of itself in recent years and didn't show any sign of dying down. Lux was a warrior and ironically enough she saw more death in a wedding ring than she did in a sword.

"Luxanna?"

She sighed (she was full of those these days) at the sound of her fiance's voice from the other side of the door. If that wasn't any indication that the two of them weren't on the terms most lovers were then she didn't know what was. No one but relative strangers called her by her full name.

"Come in." Standing, Lux rearranged her disarrayed skirts and faced the door expectedly as it opened and the Prince of Demacia came into her presence.

"Good afternoon. I hadn't seen you around the palace so I thought I'd come check on you."

"I'm well. Just resting." She could already feel the awkwardness begin to seep into the room like the dampness of early spring. Prior to their engagement Lux had never felt uneasy in his presence, but after awhile everyday casual conversation had become arduous. She couldn't count the number of times these exact same words had been spoken, and with each formation of a familiar syllable her tongue felt more and more like lead.

"I'll have to send you new ones - those are wilting already."

Her eyes watched his as he glanced at the fresh flowers on her bedside table. "I would like that very much." She returned his smile with the same tight-lipped one that would forever remain in that picture framed in gold.

"Yes, well, it would be my pleasure. Can I expect you for dinner this evening?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

"Excellent. I will see you then. You should go outside - it's too good a day to spend indoors."

"I'll consider it."

With a curt nod, Jarvan exited her quarters and made his way towards the main portion of the building. Within moments Lux had flopped down on her bed in exasperation. That one short conversation had been an incredibly accurate indication of what the rest of her life would be like. She would go insane; there was no question about it. Closing her bright blue eyes, Luxanna struggled for the hundredth time with the daunting task that lay before her: living her life with a man whom she did not love.

The next few hours were spent in emotional preparation for the evening to come. While her own agenda was hiding somewhere under her sleeve, she was certain her fiance had more to say than he originally let on. Sitting on the mahogany chaise in one of the many rooms she sometimes found herself in, the all too familiar quiet seemed to stretch for years. It wasn't total silence - there were always things going on - but it was enough that her eyes drifted closed and she came to be napping.

Her dreams were evidence of her ongoing infidelity. The passion of it blossomed in her chest even as she slept; images of hidden kisses danced across her mind's eye. In her waking life the guilt of such an obvious act of treason weighed on her shoulders heavily, but when she slept she indulged in the forbidden fruit without regret. The firm grip around her waist made her shiver with anticipation as her lover touched her neck with his lips, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever he touched her skin. She held him close, relishing the heat from his body as it moved against her own with a familiar rhythm. Those moments of intimacy were few and far inbetween, but she favored them so immensely that they were forever infiltrating her dreams.

"My lady?"

Luxanna was surprisingly elegant in being jarred from her nap so abruptly, but she had to wonder how much of her dream translated into the blush on her cheeks. "Yes?"

"Jarvan is expecting you."

Blinking in surprise, the shift in the sun's light around where she laid was far from unnoticeable. She had slept for longer than it had seemed and life had carried on without her. Rising to her feet, she followed the house servant to the dining room she would share with Jarvan that evening. It was all she could do to keep from wringing her hands nervously as she approached the dining hall they used for less formal occasions; hopefully she wouldn't lose the nerve to say what needed to be said that night.

"Good evening." Lux smiled as Jarvan greeted her, rising to kiss her hand and pull back her chair so that she could sit. This side of him wasn't typically seen by the public eye, and she would bet anything that it was the result of simply not knowing for sure how to handle a situation. When it came to hunting beasts or battle the answer was simple: kill or be killed. It was a totally different dynamic with a fiance he knew didn't love him in the way a wife should.

Clearing his throat, the Prince wasted no time getting into what their meeting was truly about. "I was talking to some intelligence officers today," he said, taking his own seat to her right.

"I see. What did they have to say?" She'd humor him - at least for now.

"Only one thing particularly special."

Well, at least he was trying to make this resemble a normal conversation between two people in each other's company. Again, she couldn't fault him for not trying.

"And that is?" She asked, pushing salad leaves around her plate with little interest towards eating them.

"There's evidence that there might be an assassination attempt on someone in the high court."

This peaked her interest to say the least; she was a member of the high court. In that phrase, however, there was no short list that she could consult to know who exactly was in danger. The court involved any of the family members of the six governing houses: Lightshield, Spiritmight, Buvelle, Vayne, Laurent, and her own, Crownguard.

"My advisors and I agree that you are most suited to find out who it is and who they want."

Shocker. Lux had spent hours in the secret tunnels of their most formidable foe collecting information, so why wouldn't she be an obvious choice now? With her knowledge of magic she stood the best chance of getting in and out without being noticed, which was crucial in ensuring information got back to headquarters. "How much time do I have?"

"We would like you to get started on this assignment tomorrow. We don't know how much time we have, so it is important to get started as quickly as possible. I'm sure you're aware of how dangerous something like this is to the city."

Even as her soon-to-be husband Jarvan still sounded like her boss; she was suddenly extremely irritated. She was his wife - didn't her life mean anything to him? Granted she was skilled at staying undercover, but was there no concern for her well being should she be caught?

"Of course. Demacia, now and forever, right?" It was with difficulty that she retained her dignity as she remembered that her first obligation was in fact to her city-state. If they needed her help she wouldn't turn them down, but that didn't mean she had to sit at a dinner that had her skin crawling in aggravation.

"I apologize, but I'm not feeling well. I think I'll go lay down now." Jarvan rose as she did out of respect, wishing her well and not complaining at all that she felt it necessary to leave.

Just another day in the life of a young woman caught between her work and love throes.


	2. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER TWO**_

The stone gutter at the Institute of War glistened with the last few drops of rain from a recent storm. Talon idly kicked at a pebble with the toe of his boot and watched it slide down into the darkness. He was familiar with gutters. But the broad gutters of Noxus were not nearly as clean as these. A smirk lit his features; he was glad to be away from those circumstances. The dank gutters of his home city had reeked of decay and corruption, not unlike Noxus itself - but there he had to make do; to scrape out a living.

Turning away, he looked up at the moon. Besides the hextech star-rods of the Institute, it was the only source of light in the courtyard. Normally, torches ringed this garden courtyard, but the storm had quenched their flame. The attendants that kept the Institute immaculate would be around just before dawn to rekindle the arcane flames.

The barest whisper of a sound came from behind him, causing him to smile.

"You're late," he said, remaining still.

"Maybe you were just early," a feminine voice said.

Katarina. They had known each other since his teenage years. A broken puddle in the cracks of the stones reflected them together. Talon's hooded visage, Katarina's scarlet head of hair - like it had always been.

General Du Couteau had found him looting the bodies of those tossed into the gutters to survive. With extremely limited resources, he had managed to outsmart and kill the numerous assassins sent after him. Katarina's father had woken him up one night, at swordpoint - the only time he had ever been caught unaware in such a situation.

"Are you tired of picking scraps from the gutter, Talon?" he had asked sharply, his eyes firm.

He remembered looking up and not seeing anger or a desire to threaten, but a fatherly cast to the man's face. For the first time in his life, he decided to take someone's hand. From then on, he had a home - but it came at a price.

Talon turned around and gave Katarina a firm hug, "So, what did you want to meet me for? Garen not treating you right? Did you need some attention from a Noxian for a change?"

Katarina huffed, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

"Nice try."

She looked down, her visage becoming immediately more serious.

"Look. My father once promised you that he wouldn't require your services again after you joined the League."

Talon frowned, immediately knowing why he was there, "...But you need me to do something? Where is he, anyway?"

He looked around the courtyard, lowering his hood. The moonlight illuminated his profile. Katarina's soft footsteps drew her closer to him.

"...I still don't know. But we have an opportunity. We do need you again," she said, her lips only inches from his ear.

With a whisper, she confided, "Can I count on you, Talon?"

Talon nodded wordlessly.

"We need you to kill Jarvan," She whispered firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder "No one can know I've told you this."

Talon frowned. This was more complicated than he had expected.

"That won't be easy. But a better consideration is; why is it necessary? Jarvan wouldn't be easy to take down if he were alone, never mind his entire palace guard. And your boyfriend, by the way. " Talon whispered firmly. He had turned to face Katarina now, her face very close to his. She looked down again, her fiery hair covering her eyes. Normally, her personality matched, but tonight, the heaviness of the task she had for Talon had drained her spirit.

"Garen can't know. We have an opportunity. With many Demacian champions at the Institute, there will be fewer to protect the Prince. Jarvan is the only direct heir to the throne. With him gone, all of the top families in Demacia will be eyeing the very real possibility of Royal power," Katarina said, her eyes sparkling with ambition.

"Very well. I'll leave tomorrow," Talon said without hesitation, pulling his hood back over his face, casting harsh shadows over his cheekbones.

"Talon. One more thing. Tensions in the Demacian Royal Court are high. You may be able to pin his death on a jealous noble of one kind or another. But you are not to kill or harm anyone else but Jarvan. We need as many contenders for the throne as possible," Katarina whispered firmly, removing her hand from Talon's shoulder.

"Blood for Noxus," he recited in response, nodding as well. The words rang hollow as he said them; he wasn't sure if he meant them, but he had grown used to saying them to affirm his allegiance to the house of Du Couteau, no matter the task.

Without another word, he stepped lightly over the gutter and walked back to his room, whisking his cloak around his form, hiding from the coming dawn.

Talon shrugged quickly out of his cloak, folding it precisely to fit in his suitcase. Katarina had always been amazed at the efficiency and speed with which he packed, never quite understanding how he managed to fit 5 pairs of socks into one boot and all of his boxers in the other one.

Sitting in his desk, he set out all of his blades and cleaned them, one by one, from left to right, saving the largest one affixed to his gauntlet for last. He was able to work out the small nicks that accumulated over time, but the bigger ones had to remain. They told stories of his past kills. If everything went fine, he wouldn't even have to use this one to kill Jarvan. These blades were his - different from the ones maintained by the Institute of War's Armory, to be used during his matches.

Carefully sheathing all of his blades and his gauntlet, he hid them with practiced motions in the false panel under his clothes in his suitcase. He put casual street clothes on top of it - something that wouldn't be out of place on the streets of Demacia.

Lying on his bed, he smirked briefly when he remembered that he had a match the next morning. Practice.


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

Talon smiled as Darius patted him on the back. It had been a tough match, but the summoner he had been in communication with knew him well. Using the power of Youmuu's Ghostblade, shadow assault, and the flash spell, he had caught out Lucian on the opposing team at a crucial moment, with the collateral damage from rake and shadow assault also taking out his lane opponent, Ahri, and the enemy Blitzcrank. He had fallen shortly afterward to Ahri's summoner's ignite, but his team won the resulting four versus two handily and pushed to the nexus.

A few of the summoners on the other side of the lobby talked loudly amongst each other, discussing what went well in the match, and what didn't go so well.

Talon was walking toward the door when he heard his name.

"Talon!"

Turning, he faced his summoner, Grandmaster Flavius Maximilian, of Noxus. Talon had a habit of brushing off most of his summoners, but Flavius was one he respected. They had played in many matches together on the Fields of Justice.

"Yes?" He asked simply.

"I was hoping I could count on you two days from now. There's a showmatch with all of the high ranking summoners, and of course, you're the champion I'm most accustomed to," Flavius said, his tone hopeful.

Flavius was nothing like Talon. The two standing together might have induced some to hilarity. Talon was a man of average height with a strong build and broad shoulders. His every movement was calculated, with practice. Flavius was a good six inches taller than him, but thin and awkward in his motions. Untamed hair and glasses did nothing to change this image.

Talon looked right into his eyes with a frown, "I'm sorry. I have other obligations. Hopefully you can find another champion. Vladimir and Kassadin are both available, I believe. Perhaps you would have luck with them."

Flavius did his best to look not disappointed, but the immediate reaction of casting his eyes downward betrayed this to Talon.

"Oh. Alright then. Well, hopefully things go well for you," he said, giving Talon a reluctant smile.

Talon nodded and left the room.

The next morning, Talon found an envelope under his door. Katarina had left it there, doubtlessly. He hefted it before ripping it at the seam, finding documents bearing the official seal of Demacia inside.

Slipping into his Demacian street clothes, he surreptitiously made his way to the train platform back to Demacia.

Standing in line at the security checkpoint, he saw a few summoners in line behind him making gestures in his direction.

He gave them a carefree smile and walked toward them.

"Can I help you all…?" he asked, displaying uncertainty.

"Sorry, it's just that you look just like-"

His friend interrupted him, "Yeah, just like Talon. You must hear it all the time."

Talon laughed, "I don't think Talon would be caught dead wearing something like this. And in a crowd of Demacian summoners no less."

The group walked forward, getting out their paperwork in preparation for travel.

The Summoners surrounding him laughed.

"So where are you all headed?" He asked them.

"We're touring the city when we get there. We've never really seen the heart of the capital before," one of them said.

Talon stepped toward the desk. The security official's falsely interested gaze wavered for a second when he saw him, but decided he must be mistaken.

"Documents, if you would," he said for the thousandth time that day.

The tourists behind Talon asked, "So what's your name? If it isn't Talon?"

Talon smiled a bit and opened the small booklet bearing a Demacian seal on it.

"Dane." He said, reading from the page upside down and repressing a frown. It would be just like Katarina, giving him the name of a dog. He retrieved his booklet after the official had looked it over and extended a hand to his new friend.

"You don't mind if I sit with you?" Talon asked, gesturing to the group. He extended a hand to the most vociferous of them.

"Aye, that's no problem. I'm Octavius, this is Dannica, and this is Marcus," he said, pointing around to his friends. Dannica shyly waved to him, but Marcus extended a hand in greeting, which Talon accepted.

"Nice to meet you all," Talon said. They passed the baggage car and handed their suitcases to the attendant. Talon was the last of the group, handing his over slowly. The attendant hefted it, a bit surprised by the weight.

Passing through the train, he hid his unease behind a tired gaze, settling into a seat beside his new friends. It was a comfortable train, with padded, spacious cars and complimentary drinks.

Talon watched the passing countryside, plotting Jarvan's demise.

"Dane," said Dannica, "We're here."

He stood up in his seat, looking around. They had indeed arrived.

"Do you think we'll see anyone at the palace? Garen and Jarvan should be home, I believe," Dannica said.

Talon frowned. Garen? He hadn't planned on dealing with him. It was no matter. He could likely be avoided.

"Eh, they'll be too busy to meet a bunch of summoners," Marcus said, retrieving a backpack from under his seat. They all walked toward the exit slowly, quickly, without bumping into too many fellow passengers. A few of them gave Talon suspicious looks, whispering to friends, who shook their heads.

The baggage attendant stood by a large trolley where people retrieved their suitcases, eagerly departing to their destinations. Walking up, he nodded politely to the attendant and retrieved his own, glad to have the familiar weight of it in his hands again.

The assassin walked with the tourists and summoners off of the train platform and into Demacia's famous town square. The palace looked over them, set on an artificial plateau, surrounded by large Oak trees, giving it the appearance of being suspended on green clouds. Silver gates loomed tall below, and the long path trailed down into the square. It was a display, more than anything else. There were many ways into the palace; not all known to the public.

He followed Octavius, Marcus, and Dannica to the Buvelle Inn, rumored to have been started by the Maven of Strings herself. Talon smirked. Sona would have been far too busy for such a thing. But the Inn did a good business. Perhaps there was some truth to the matter. Perhaps Sona had played one of her famous concerts there early in her career.

Talon walked inside to speak with the innkeeper, smiling casually.

Nodding in greeting, he said, "I'll take a room for the night."

Retrieving a key from a large cabinet behind him, he pulled it off of the shelf.

"Alright. Room 218 Is available. It's fifty crowns for the room, five more if you want a hot bath prepared," the innkeeper said in practiced words.

"I'll take both," Talon said, holding out his hand with the appropriate coins.

The innkeeper scratched his beard slightly as he looked for the first time at Talon's face.

"Thank you. Have a good evening," he said, handing over the key. "The room should be ready in a half hour. If you'd like, you can sit in the lobby."

"In that case, I'll take a glass of Demacian red and whatever meal you're serving tonight," Talon said, handing the innkeeper another two coins.

"Good man. They'll serve you over at the bar. I think it's steak and potatoes tonight," the innkeeper said gruffly. He poured him a glass and handed it to him with a smile.

Talon nodded, taking the glass and situating himself comfortably in a padded leather chair by the fireplace. He ate and sipped his wine slowly, taking time savoring the flavors. It very well could be his last meal, if the job went badly.

Retrieving his key, he walked slowly up to room 218 with his suitcase, putting it next to his bed. He locked his door and immediately went to bed.

Waking up hours before dawn, Talon stood up sharply and got to work. Laying out his various blades on his bed, he decided on the appropriate ones for the job. Although likely he would use one that he stole from the palace. He walked into the bathroom and stretched before stripping naked. He ran a hand through the water in the tub.

'_Still Warm'_, he thought, getting inside and cleaning himself thoroughly. He liked to immerse himself in the water and let it run through his hair, cleansing his thoughts of all other things besides the task at hand. Slipping through a few key backstreets, he would eventually emerge into the palace through an abandoned sally-port. Once, it had been used to sneak supplies in during a siege, but direct war had not been seen by many in decades. He had learned of the passage during an earlier job, although he had never gotten to use it.

He dried himself off and dressed quickly, then donning his cloak of blades and other clothes designed for practical invisibility at this time of morning. Opening the window, he stepped out onto a neighboring balcony, and then jumped down with an agile jump and roll.

Clinging to the shadows, he made his way swiftly along the side streets of the main square. The facade of the storefronts presented a very different image than what they hid. Trash and lost or forgotten artifacts had migrated from the square, to congregate in heaps in the corners of the alleys. Talon didn't mind. They made more shadows for him to blend in with.

It wasn't long before he had arrived at the door he had been looking for. It was inconspicuous, a dusty looking trapdoor in a long overgrown lot. Pushing aside the long grass, he heaved upward on the door until it opened, scattering flakes of rust everywhere. Descending inside, he walked along the path. Sally ports such as this were designed to be useable in the dark, and thus were always of uniform size and angle all the way until the end.

Talon frowned, nearly tripping over a boulder in his path.

'_Unless there's been a cave in...'_ He thought, continuing with caution. It took him longer than expected, but he was able to maneuver around the rest of the boulders safely before reaching the end. If Katarina had been correct, the exit into the palace would put him in the pantry. The guards inside the palace, especially near the living quarters, would be next to nonexistent at this time of night - the nobles were comfortable with just having them guard all of the obvious entrances - not the kitchen.

Exiting into the pantry would easily be the riskiest part, as he had no way of knowing what would wait for him on the other side. Breathing heavily, he put his ear against the door and heard nothing. It was too thick to glean anything useful from listening to it.

Steeling himself for the worst, he pushed against it, making a much louder creaking noise than he would have liked. He stopped when it was partially ajar, stepping inside the pantry. It was dark, and he could smell aged oak and wine. Clearly the wine-cellar. The only torch in the room was near the door. Closing the trapdoor under him, he made sure not to disturb anything from it's place, taking light footsteps on the stone.

The dimmed star - rods of the kitchen and palace hallway made it more difficult to remain in the darkness, but there were no guards about at the time. Walking along the wall, he made his way to where he knew Jarvan's living quarters were. Testing the doorknob gingerly, he frowned upon discovering that it was locked. Apparently, the nobles weren't quite as comfortable as he thought.

Demacian locks were much more complex to pick than Noxian ones, some having twice the usual number of pins inside. Expecting nothing less, Talon had brought the best tools, slipping inside in under a minute. He locked the door silently behind him, and then froze.

Something wasn't right. He heard soft breath from the bed. But not a man's. It was too shallow.

Even in the darkness, he could see blonde hair. Lux?

'_Damn,' _he cursed silently. Jarvan's room must be the next door over. But if the rumors were true, perhaps they shared a walk in closet between the rooms? These rooms were meant for an engaged or betrothed couple, in old tradition with the Demacian vows of chastity before marriage. Although, all but the staunchest of traditionalists scoffed at that idea now.

Talon looked at Lux for a few minutes, remaining perfectly still in the silence. He watched her chest rise and fall, making certain she hadn't been disturbed by the slight noise he had caused breaking into her room.

He still needed something to kill Jarvan with. Curious, he stepped lightly into Lux's bathroom. He opened a few drawers and rifled through them with gloved hands, careful to not cause a stir. A comb. Some ointments and lotions. A decorative hairpin. His fingers settled around it. It was long enough to pierce someone's heart from the back, and sturdy enough too. Likely made from the Demacian Oak surrounding the palace. He hefted it. Or perhaps bone. Stepping from Lux's bathroom, he crossed into the closet, closing the door behind him.

The closet door into Jarvan's bedroom was slightly ajar. Cautiously, he opened it, peering inside; but unlike Luxanna's room, here there were no signs of life. He frowned, settling back into the closet. It was an expansive room, for a closet. Eventually, he settled behind Jarvan's shirts and crouched, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

The morning light hit her retina as though the sun were replicating her own _Final Spark._ It was almost as detrimental, except that it hadn't left a trail of evaporated flesh behind it. Squinting her eyes shut and covering them with the back of her hand, the Lady of Luminosity groaned inwardly. She had been up late simply laying in bed, trying to figure out how she had been so weak - and how she would rectify her mistake.

Sighing and resting her cheek on her pillow, she realized with sudden heaviness what she was about to do that day. As the Crownguard prodigy, there was a lot resting on her shoulders for her to simply refuse the options chosen on her behalf. Sitting up, Luxanna's eyes wandered over her worldly possessions as though some sort of solution rested inside them. There was no such luck.

Throwing the covers back and forcing herself out of the comfort of her bed, there was no rush in putting on decent clothes and running a comb through her hair. Catching herself in the mirror as she entered the closet both she and Jarvan shared, Lux sighed and considered her reflection with disdain. She needed to eat more. It wasn't that she had any issue eating when she was hungry, but there were rarely any indulgences afterwards. Between that and her high level of activity, Lux was all lean muscle. Perhaps it was possible to be _too _healthy - she honestly wasn't her biggest fan. Her hair was too limp, her confirmation too straight, her left index finger was a bit crooked, her eyes...at least there was the bright blue color of her eyes.

For some reason, once she had changed and left the comfort of her bedroom, it was that list of flaws that stuck in her mind like glue. As she pushed open the cracked closet door that lead to Jarvan's bedroom, she was far too involved in her own thoughts to notice anything but his already tidy bedspread. Of course he was already up. A part of her had been wishing that he would still be asleep and that she could come back later. Maybe she would have some sort of revelation; maybe this would all make sense.

His back faced her from the chair at his desk, seemingly oblivious to her presence behind him. She would have felt weird about sneaking up that way if her thoughts hadn't already been so preoccupied. Coughing gently, she smiled her thin lipped smile as he turned and stood at her arrival. "Good morning."

"Good morning." She could see it in his eyes, hear in his voice that he already recognized what sort of conversation they would be having. After all, it wasn't like her to come visit him so early in the morning.

There were many ways she could go about breaking the thick tension that shifted between them in giant waves, but she couldn't think of them just then. As she shifted back to lean against the now closed closet door, her eyes just didn't seem capable of lifting themselves up off the floor. It was almost humorous how difficult it was to say - it's not like Jarvan would be particularly disappointed. While they had grown up as friends, connected by the brotherly camaraderie Garen and him shared, they were not meant to be married. They didn't love each other; it was wrong to try and force something so monumental in each other's lives. No, he wouldn't be disappointed. Their families were another matter entirely.

"I think you know what I'm going to say, Jarvan." She paused, weighing her words on her tongue. "I can't go through with this marriage." For the first time since she entered the room her gaze lifted to search his for some sign of empathy - some sense of understanding that would make the situation easier to bear. The look she was met with was nothing short of disappointing. There was a newfound hardness in his eyes, and in them she could tell that he wasn't going to let her go easily.

Sighing, Jarvan turned his chair in her direction and sat down, studying the floor intently. His eyes had become blank like they did when people drew within themselves, too preoccupied with their thoughts to focus on other things. "My father will never approve of this."

"My situation isn't much better, but I can't let other people run my life for me any more." She said, hoping to play on Jarvan's free spirit and his desire to make his own decisions. It was one of his more stubborn characteristics, but it seemed to be bending beneath the force of his father's will. A swift moment of silence swept between them, as unnerving as the calm that always comes just before the onslaught rain.

"We're going through with this wedding, Luxanna. My father won't let it be any other way, and neither will I." He diverted his attention from her face to a neat, small stack of papers on his desk. They were probably about as insignificant as her own desires.

"I will not marry you, Jarvan." Her determination was bright, but the courage to back it was flickering weakly. As his hand swept across his desk and papers flew to the floor she could feel oncoming panic.

"God damn it Lux, yes you will," The demand resonated in her mind and bounced off the walls just as loudly.

"No, I won't. I'll leave the city - "

"No!" Their voices were rising - she could feel her own caught in her throat. Jarvan was standing now, and he wasn't the calm leader many people in the city saw him to be. He was angry. Lux realized that he wasn't used to being challenged, and as well as she thought she knew him this was her first one-on-one encounter with his temper.

Jarvan crossed the room in swift, long strides. Before she knew what happened his hands were tight around her wrists and his face very close to her own. In that moment she forgot everything but his breath on her cheek and her back to the wall. "You are not to leave the city, do you understand?" He was talking for too loudly for the close proximity they shared.

In normal circumstances the Lady of Luminosity would have defended herself. His grip would probably leave bruises on her fair skin, but in the light of everything else she ignored it. "You can't keep me caged forever, Jarvan." Her voice was desperate, and even he could probably recognize how unsure she was of such a statement. He was a prince. He could do whatever he wanted. The idea made her eyes water.

"We're to be married in one month. I want to hear nothing of this again." Jarvan let go of her hands and she found herself wishing to be any where but there. With a swiftness that surprised her, she found her way to the other side of the bedroom and let herself out into the adjoining hallway.

He was so stuck on the idea that he had moved the date up - one month? How could she let her life be over in just one month?

Talon was roused from his trance as he heard the couple arguing. His muscles were stiff from leaning against the wall in the same position for hours, but his devious smile brought energy to his limbs. Curling his fingers around the polished handle, he stepped silently from the shelves, moving with a gloomy purpose.

Staring into Jarvan's room, he saw Lux storm out of the room, sadness and fury in her eyes. Jarvan let out a loud sigh, burying his face in his hands. Moving swiftly, he stepped onto the carpet, just a few feet behind the Prince's chair. He was leaning over slightly, his back covered in only a shirt, exposed to Talon. It would be simple. A straight downward thrust, to the left of the spine.

He brought his blade around swiftly to Jarvan's neck, pressing the pin against his back.

"Guess who?" Talon asked.

"...Talon? How?" Jarvan froze. This hadn't been an easy morning for him. Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

"It seems your world isn't quite as orderly as you'd like. I'm going to kill you now. You should thank me. It didn't seem like you'd be very happy being with Luxanna anyway," the Blade's Shadow said, his tone cold.

Jarvan's face showed not fear, but acceptance of his fate.

"Don't worry. They'll think it was her who killed you," Talon said, thrusting the hairpin into the Prince's heart, bodily forcing him against the desk. Not expecting the suddenness, he cried out before slumping over against the desk.

Letting go of the hairpin embedded in Jarvan's back, Talon turned swiftly. The guards would have heard that. He sprinted out of the room and down the hall, remembering the window he had to reach. Opening it with practiced motions, he jumped out of it and shimmied down the drainpipe.

He smirked as he walked shrouded in shadow, out of the garden's exit. He froze, feeling eyes on him.

"You heartless-!" Lux shouted, pointing at him. To most he would have appeared invisible, one with the shadow. But the Lady of Luminosity could see through such parlor tricks.

She gasped, feeling Talon's blade at her neck, interrupting her speech. He had appeared instantaneously behind her.

"Quiet. The guards will hear you. You're a wanted woman, you know," Talon whispered into her ear. She was disgusted, feeling Talon's muscular body close to her, the scent of sweat and leather clinging to him. A gloved hand bound her wrists.

"Will you cooperate?" He asked.

"Fuck you," she whispered tensely, squirming in his grasp.

"That's no way to speak to the man holding your life in his hands. Besides. I did you a favor. You didn't want to marry that prick anyway," Talon said, his voice smug; very different from the tone he had spoken to Jarvan in.

Lux was overcome. She wanted to kill Talon. Bind him with light and burn him to ashes. But she couldn't. No matter what, she couldn't get past the fact that he was right. Talon was even holding her wrists - roughly - not unlike her prince had earlier. Before the life had left his eyes.

"Are you coming with me, Lux?" Talon asked.

Lux looked down, tears obscuring her vision. She couldn't merely walk back into the palace. The guards had heard her arguing with the prince. By now they would be finding her hairpin in his back. They knew she had the military training to slip away from the palace invisibly. Her thoughts were drawn to her brother, Garen. He would be distraught. Lux knew they were close, but with the evidence so clearly against her, it would be like jumping from a pot of boiling water into the fire.

"...Yes," She whispered, tasting the tears as they dripped from her eyes. Those words were like poison, slowly killing her from the way out. If she were to be of clear mind she would have recognized that in Jarvan's death there was freedom. However, currently, all she could do was hiss in frustration as his grip tightened around her wrists.

"Leave your wand here," Talon said, forcefully moving her wrist to her side. Lux knew she had no choice and dropped it by the rose bushes in the garden. Without it, manipulating a candle flame would be the height of her power.

"We need to move. Quickly," Talon let go of her arms but kept his blade pointed at her back. Lux looked at the ground, her bangs concealing most of the world from her vision.

She didn't want to see it anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

The Prodigal Explorer wasn't a usual sight around the Institute of War. Due to the amulet of power he wore on his glove, it always teleported him there from seemingly random locations. Occasionally, this would cause awkward situations for the summoners and his allied champions. Having once been summoned shortly after a shower and while wearing only a towel, Ezreal decided to take things up with the High Council of summoners to set some ground rules.

He agreed to stay at the Institute for three months of the year, occasionally stopping in at other times as well, in exchange for them no longer summoning him without his input.

Despite not being a 'full-time' champion like so many others, he remained one of the most popular faces on Summoner's Rift. It was on one of these extended stays at the Institute of War that he met one Luxanna Crownguard for the first time - and her protective brother not long afterward. He remembered the first time they had locked eyes.

Lux had been summoned as the mid laner on Ezreal's team, while he had been summoned to fulfill the role of marksman. At the summoner's request, he had donned his 'explorer' outfit. He personally thought it made him look rather silly.

"Hey, you're new here, right?" Lux asked him, staring at him from across the summoning platform behind their nexus. Ezreal had looked up in boredom, more focused on dealing with the shopkeeper at the time, but Lux's eyes had smitten him.

"Yeah…" he said, pausing, and then looking into her eyes. "I mean. I'm Ezreal. What's your name?"

Lux smiled and approached him. Holding her wand in one of her hands, she took Ezreal's gloved hand in one of her own, white satin smothered by rough brown leather.

"Luxanna Crownguard. Be careful, Ezreal. My brother's on the other team. I hope our team does well. He's kind of boastful," she said.

Ezreal nodded enthusiastically, "I'll do my best!"

Lux smiled at him and walked off toward her lane. Her smile was like nothing he had seen before. So white and innocent - it just set his mind at ease. The sight of her in a blue miniskirt - from her 'sorceress' outfit - made him even more reluctant to look away.

The sound of Braum's hearty laugh broke his trance.

"Oh. You like the Lux girl, hmm? I knew a girl like her once. I gave her the biggest goat in my herd!" the muscular man said, hefting his shield. He waved a large hand toward the lane they were supposed to go to. Ezreal realized that, while entranced by Lux, he had accidentally bought a hunter's machete. Luckily, he was able to refund it and buy the appropriate items instead.

Despite the minor mishap at the beginning - and Ezreal being late to lane by a few seconds - the match ended up being an overwhelming victory for Ezreal's team. Lux gave Ezreal a congratulatory hug afterward, and from that point on, they just clicked - much to Garen's chagrin. After more than a few dates, Ezreal and Lux became very close. He remembered an evening they spent together in the Institute Gardens after midnight - doing something that wouldn't be considered appropriate for a Demacian noblewoman.

Eventually, however, Ezreal committed more and more time to studying old maps and tomes. He would plan long excursions into the most remote locations of Valoran, and Lux wouldn't hear from him for months. When he returned to the Institute for his yearly three months, their relationship was rocky at best. Eventually, Lux couldn't stand it anymore. She told him to make a decision; to commit to them if he truly felt like they belonged together. Ezreal had been overwhelmed at the sudden ultimatum, and had told her that it would be better if they were friends instead.

After a few weeks of awkward silence, they started talking again. It wasn't the same as before, but they both could tell that unexpressed feelings lingered between them. They still felt close.

Some time later, Jarvan looked to Lux as a possible wife, and she had been all too happy to take some time off from the League of Legends and return home. Her happiness, however, was short lived.

Ezreal looked around the Institute hallways, making his way toward the Demacian quarters. He could tell that something was off right away. Things were strangely quiet. He saw Vayne in the lounge, reclined in a chair and reading a book. Somewhat unusual behavior for the Night Hunter, but he supposed everyone had books they enjoyed.

"Hey, Shauna. Have you seen Lux anywhere?" Ezreal asked. Vayne looked up and closed the book in her lap, her finger holding the spot where she had last read.

Her face showed confusion, unsurety. Another unusual thing from the Night Hunter.

"She isn't here," she said simply.

"Oh. Hmm. Off with Jarvan?" He asked, sitting in an adjacent chair.

"...Look, Ezreal. I'm not really the one to tell you this, but no one else is here. I suppose I'll have to do. Lux is a fugitive. Wanted for the murder of one Jarvan the Fourth," Vayne said.

Ezreal laughed.

"That's a good one, Vayne. I didn't really take you for the humorous type, but-"

"He's dead, Ezreal. Jarvan is dead," Vayne said, her words cold. Ezreal went pale, sweat forming on his forehead.

"He… and they think Lux did it? But she would never-", he said, running a hand through his hair in anxiousness.

"I don't believe it either, but apparently Garen and the Demacian Royal Guard are 'investigating'," Vayne said, forming air quotes with her fingers.

"Garen wouldn't imprison his own sister! It can't be her! Someone else has to be behind this. One of Swain's assassins," Ezreal said.

Vayne nodded, "Something along those lines would make more sense to me, but apparently the evidence was incontrovertible."

"I need to look into this," Ezreal said, more to himself than to Vayne, who merely nodded and returned to reading her book. The Prodigal Explorer stood up, running off toward the train station. He never thought he'd actually seek Garen out, but he was the only one Ezreal knew of that could help now.

Talon pushed Lux into what looked like a run down farmhouse outside of Demacia.

"Do you know where we are?" Talon asked firmly, closing the door behind them quickly, causing dust to rise from the floor.

Lux barely managed to shake her head. The tears still on her cheeks and red eyes indicated that she probably hadn't seen much of anything on the way out of Demacia.

"Good," Talon said. He drew closed the only remaining windowshade in the house - the other windows were covered by boards.

"Upstairs probably looks better-," he added. He interrupted himself, catching Lux's fist in its flight toward his face. He frowned, twisting her wrist a little before letting go, causing Lux to wince.

"Why not just kill me, you bastard?" Lux said, her voice somewhere between hatred and despair.

"I can't. I was tasked to kill Jarvan, and no one else. Are you hungry?" Talon said. Lux seemed confused.

"I… what?" Lux looked into Talon's eyes, brushing a lash from her cheek.

"There should be food upstairs. In the room next to the bedroom. And a bathroom. It's dried and salted, military rations most likely. Not good, but it's edible," Talon said, walking upstairs. Lux, for the first time since they had fled, realized that she was hungry. Reluctantly, she followed him.

"It's not palace food, that's for sure." Talon said, gesturing at the food - salted pork jerky and wheat crackers. He was already eating some, chewing with gusto. It occurred to Lux that in his line of work, he had to be efficient in every action. Lux took some of the food wordlessly. Despite her royal upbringing, she was used to such food - it was common military fare.

"Were you and Jarvan always fighting like that?" Talon asked, leaning back against a wall. He held a few strips of jerky in his hand, bite marks at the ends of all of them.

Between bites, Lux said, "Didn't you hear us? How long were you in that damn closet?" Lux asked harshly.

"You don't have to answer, Lux. You're stuck here. You may as well try to be less of a bitch. I didn't plan on you being here either," Talon said, gesturing firmly with his jerky strips.

Lux looked down, running a hand through her hair, "Jarvan and I used to be friends. He and my brother knew each other since childhood. I guess it was natural that we became friends as well. It wasn't until recently that he tried to make it something more. But I didn't feel that way about him. He became less himself, more a slave to the royal ways," Lux said, sitting on the table in the storage room. She made a sandwich out of the wheat crackers and jerky, enjoying the mix of textures.

Talon nodded. He hadn't expected her to be this open.

"I guess it sounds weird. He became more of a Prince, and less… Jarvan. Besides, I kind of felt for someone else," Lux said.

"Ezreal?" Talon asked. His question hung in the air for a bit.

"I guess everyone at the Institute knows," Lux said.

"That night in the gardens was a pretty big tell." Talon said, snapping off a section of jerky in his teeth.

Lux went bright red, "H-how did you know about that?!"

Talon laughed slightly, "Don't worry. I don't think anyone else knows. I'm the only one I know who takes walks around the Institute at that time. It helps me think. That night, I got a little more than I bargained for. I didn't see anything, but the sounds made things pretty obvious."

Lux looked down, "I told Ezreal it was a bad idea, but I guess if you were the only one who heard, it wasn't the worst thing ever."

"From the noises you were making, it seemed you enjoyed it very much," Talon said, finishing up his jerky.

"We aren't talking about this," Lux said, sliding off of the table and standing up, walking out of the room and into the bathroom next to it. Talon heard the sounds of a rusty faucet and nodded. Lux would probably be awhile in there, especially if she decided to make use of the washbasin.

Talon waited in silence, sitting on the bed. The solace of a whetstone and his favorite blade was all his mind required at the time. He had completed his mission, and taking Lux back to Katarina would only prove a minor complication. Given that he had killed the second most important figure in all of Demacia, things had gone surprisingly well.

He shook his head, knowing he shouldn't grow complacent. There was always something else. Lux was far from a compliant hostage, and the fact that he couldn't just kill her was terribly inconvenient.

Talon glanced down the edge of his blade. If he saw brighter colored spots along the edge, it meant that those were dull spots or nicks that needed to be smoothed out. 'Stars', they were called. Looking down the edge, toward the bathroom, he wondered. Did he truly want to kill her? What had she done?

There was no point to thinking this way. His orders were clear.

Lux walked out of the bathroom, her hair still damp.

"There's only one bed. I'll sleep on that chair downstairs… eventually," Talon said, standing up and walking downstairs.

"Goodnight Lux," Talon said, not expecting a response.

Lux gave him a dismissing wave, but kept her silence.


End file.
